Never a Wayward Son
by Shamera
Summary: Merlin is unused to sharing his mother, especially with all the knights of Camelot.


Written for the holiday exchange at Merlin Games on LJ! For Team Canon, who requested a drabble of Hunith moving to Camelot and taking care of the boys. Lots of love from Team Reincarnation!

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Arthur's knights, Merlin realized with mild bewilderment on the second day of Hunith's visit to Camelot, followed his mother around like ducklings. She was hardly ever seen by anyone without a hint of the Camelot red trailing behind her... and she certainly wasn't the one wearing such a vibrant colour.

It was amusing the first three days and then somewhat irritating when he wanted some time alone with her only to see Percival carrying her basket of fruits as she kneaded dough for bread. Even Gwaine was sitting in the small space that Gaius had reserved for Hunith, oddly silent with wide eyes as she hummed with her sleeves rolled up and asking politely once in a while for an extra handful of dried berries to add into the mixture she was creating. Gwaine scrambled up in an oddly disgraceful and hurried manner when she asked warmly if he would mind checking on the kitchens and seeing if they could spare some honey, as it would be nice to have the sweetness baked in.

Hunith had never been much of a cook (not that Merlin would ever insult his mother's cooking, but he had taken over the culinary aspect of their lives when he had been old enough to tend the fire. She was just a bit... absent-minded when it came to food and things tended to turn out a little, or a lot, more charred than Merlin's tongue would prefer), but she was a wonderful baker.

"Honey cakes?" Merlin asked hopefully when Gwaine rushed past him with a grin in greeting, settling down the books that Gaius had asked him to pilfer from Geoffrey. Percival's look grew even more wistful at the mention. Hunith smiled at him and drew him down for a kiss on his forehead, leaving streaks of white flour on his cheeks. He had to resist the itch to rub at his face, instead feeling oddly possessive of her sign of affection.

"Just sweetened bread." She responded with her usual smile. "Sir Percival here-" and at the mention of his name, Percival straightened to attention, "-helped me pick blackberries not three days ago. He and the other knights have been such a help the past week, I had to do something for them."

You are doing things for them, Merlin wanted to protest if not for the fact that he knew he would only be acting like a spoiled child. Hunith had spent great lengths of time mending torn clothing and slipping extra cheese into lunches, patting the heads of knights who were embarrassingly eager to sit before her so that she could fuss over their dirtied faces or tangled hair.

Even Arthur, though he denied it, spent an exorbitant amount of time in Gaius's chambers the past several days loudly proclaiming the slightest aches and pains as Hunith smiled knowingly and bade him to nap in a patch of afternoon sunlight, sitting by his bedside to do her sewing. Merlin knew for a fact that he king had spent at least three afternoons the past week content and rosy cheeked after catching several winks like a lazy cat.

Leon had offered Hunith a great amount of pillows and blankets that he hadn't been using, and even Elyan sought Merlin out in the mornings with armfuls of wildflowers and eyes glued to the floor as he asked if there was anything Hunith was allergic to. Even the stable boys silenced and sat near her knee when she visited them with fresh waters and towels for them to wash up and ending up sitting on a barrow to tell them stories of fairies and mermaids, of heroes and villains and of dragons and gods. It was as if the entire castle was smitten with her presence, and Merlin could barely hang on in that wake of adoration that his mother would leave.

He didn't beget sharing her affections, but there was still a part of him whose eyes narrowed and pouted as she stroked through someone else's hair.

But Hunith wouldn't be Hunith if she didn't already know that and anticipate his moods.

"Here," she told him as she handed him a list. "I need you to convince the baker that I need use of the ovens for the afternoon and then take that to the king and inform him that there will be blackberry pie for this evening." She gave the basket Percival was still holding a somewhat dubious look, as if challenging it to contradict her. "At least, there should be enough for pies left."

Normally, he would have some lingering objections just so he could stay with her just a few moments longer and see her roll her eyes at his whinging, but with how everyone else had been behaving so perfectly for her, Merlin dared not do differently.

"Of course, mother." Mark wouldn't be happy about his ovens, but he wouldn't object to the request from the king's manservant. All the running around, though, meant that Merlin spent less time with his mother than he wanted to. "I'll be back in a little while to take you to the market like you wanted."

"There's no hurry, Merlin. Sir Elyan has offered to show me around the markets already."

Merlin's smile strained. Of _course_ he had.

Several awkward minutes later and Merlin found himself barging into Arthur's room after a brief argument with Mark and a near collision with a group of chambermaids. All he wanted was some time with his mother and- well. It had been a long week.

"_Knocking_, Merlin." The king said, never raising his head from where he had been sitting at his desk with his quill, halfway through penning a letter that was supposed to have been sent the day before.

"I don't get why I'd need to when you already know it's me." Merlin responded, falling readily into their easy banter. He sprawled into a seat near the warmth of the fireplace, leaning his elbows on the wooden table before him. It was not the same table Arthur used for writing, but instead for entertaining guests (although Merlin had never seen it used in such a way before). "And mother said that there might be pie for dinner. Dessert. If there's enough blackberries left."

Arthur's quill stilled. "Oh?"

Merlin didn't bother with a response to that. Of course there would be enough berries left. If there weren't, there were certainly enough people who would be willing to run out into the forests and pick them if Hunith so asked.

He hadn't even realized that he had spoken the thought aloud until he heard Arthur snort with amusement.

"Don't sound so petulant about it, Merlin." Arthur said, returning to his writing. "It's not as if that statement doesn't apply to you as well."

"Of course I'd pick berries for my mother if she wanted me to!" Merlin protested, kicking at the table leg in irritation. He glared down at the grooves in the wood, knowing it was silly of him to be so upset because it was a good thing that people liked his mother instead of hating her, but feeling strangely jealous for her attention never-the-less. "She's my mother, and, and-!" Another sullen kick. "_You know_."

"I don't."

And right then, Merlin felt like he could melt into a puddle of shame. Of course Arthur didn't. Not really, not when Uther had been so strict and never talked of the late queen. And Gwaine and Percival and Elyan had faint memories of their mothers and Leon never really brought up the subject of _parents_ and barely anyone in the castle spoke of mothers when the king had never really had one.

"And I didn't mean it that way, either." Arthur didn't look the slightest bit upset over Merlin's phrasing. "I meant people do that for you all the time. Picking berries. Or whatever analogy you're trying to use this time. Don't think I don't know that Percival helps you carry my bathwater up to my rooms or that Gwaine stays with you while you muck out my stables, or that Elyan looks for herbs for you when you don't have time to run errands for Gaius. Or even that Leon tried to give you an old coat of his before."

Merlin squirmed, uncomfortable with all of that being brought up. He never quite knew what to do when they kept offering to do things for him, although he knew it was because he took the extra time from his day to ask about their days and after their health. "So?"

"_So_, _Mer_lin, goodness knows that I've had to learn to spend time with everyone else and have you in the background all the time. I don't see why you can't spend time with her as well as the people you normally spend time with."

Merlin glared at him, although it was weak. "She's not a servant."

Arthur finally took a moment from his writing to look up, his expression indescribable. "No. She's not. But you're not quite the normal servant either, are you?"

Merlin mulled over the words, head bowed under Arthur's sharp look.

He... there was no reason to leave his mother with Elyan just because the knight had offered to show her around the marketplace. There was no reason that he couldn't go along with and add in whatever details that Elyan might forget. There had been no reason that he couldn't still talk with his mother and Percival at the same time in Gaius's chambers, to find subjects they all had in common. Surely there was a shared love of honey cakes.

Arthur cleared his throat, and then held up the list that Merlin's mother had given him before, with what looked like an addendum. "Hunith is an amazing woman. You should be proud of her, that everyone seeks her attention."

Merlin stood and walked over to the writing desk cautiously, accepting the note and mumbling a response about getting it back to her.

It was only when he was out the doors again that Merlin glanced down at the note, wondering why the king would need to respond to a list if what would be available for dinner, and saw the elegant script on the bottom:

_Like mother, like son._


End file.
